Orx.odt
Naming Day A new egg shaped stone, cut from a boulder that had been dug out from meters of snow and carried to the field behind the round house. There also under a thick layer of snow were the rock mounds and rock markers of the graves of the most revered. On a planet with so little land, the dead usually received a burial at sea. The greatest warriors and heroes were burned aboard a wooden ship, the wood brought all the way from Earth. The old clans, however maintained a burial field behind the Round house and all the way to Mount Asgard. It was there where they had placed the little body of the dead born girl. Ilva the mother of the girl wrapped in a black fur brimmed cloak stood there. The wind pulling on her cape. Her face hidden behind a fine fur Nubhir wolf mask. The men were all gone after she had asked to be alone for a while. Her father had left a flyer for her to use behind and only after the third assurance that she would be fine they had left. The bitter cold had long penetrated the cape her insulated clothing underneath, yet she did not want to leave just yet. She had so looked forward to raise the twins. To have a girl of her own, hoping she would grow up in a better world. All her life she had been raised to be a proper Nilfeheim woman and after her mother died, she had first hated her father but she knew how much he had loved her and that it was a terrible accident. She then tried to be a good daughter, especially as fate was not kind to the Ragnarsson clan and her older brother had died in a Tyranno Hunting accident. She sensed his presence and said without turning, "She is dead Old Egill. I have a beautiful son, but his sister is dead." Her voice was just a hint above a whisper. "I could be twice as old, lovely Ilva and still would not know what to say to make it easier for you. Nilfeheim is Hel's realm and this our world is aptly named." "It would not have happened if we opened a little more to the worlds beyond our orbit, but women are still nothing but ornaments meant for pleasure, bearing sons for them." "Death happens even on Pluribus, the old reaper has not lost his sting and old Hel has never suffered shortage. As you know I hoped Freya would be the one, the one I could raise as a Warrior." She turned to look at the equally thickly bundled up old man they often called the Wizard of Nilfeheim. "I so wish Tyr would be here." She knew she could not see her sad smile but she knew he could sense it. He pulled her close and said. "He knows my child, I am sure and knowing him he will be the first Tyranno that weeps. Now let us go back, your son is alive and he does need his mother." -""- Erik Gustav had spared no expenses to make the naming day of his grandson a momentous event. The Burg was made snow and ice free as possible. Flags and banners everywhere and even the low men had received new clothing. Every room in the burg was filled with guests, many clan chiefs were invited and all the Elders. A delegation from Hasvik along with the First Keeper was there, even Bjorn Igvarhein the operator of Nilfeheim Radio was there to record the event and broadcast it. The tables almost buckled under the weight of the mountains of food. A dozen grills with entire Fangsnappers slowly turning over open flame. There were stacks of barrels of beer, ale and mead. The ceremony drew near and again just like at the wedding, oak tree branches had been transported all the way from Earth and decorated the High Hall, the Elders had brought the most precious artifact of the planet, an altar to Odin made of pure platinum. It was richly decorated depicting the one eyed god, his ravens and all the other symbols associated with the father of the Aseir. It had been placed just beyond the three wide steps that led from the High Hall to the Lords retreat area. The big table that usually was at the center of the High Hall had been pushed to the side and chairs were placed in rows to the left and right of a dark red carpet running from the main entrance all across the polished stone floor of the High Hall and to the Odin Altar. High iron wrought braziers and oil fed torches lined the walls. From the twenty meter high vaulted ceiling hung the famous eight huge chandeliers made of Tyranno Fin bones and the skulls of long perished enemies of the Olafson clan had been brought from the Old Olafson rock to symbolize that this was now the new Burg of the clan. Each of these chandeliers had thirty six of these sud blackened skulls with a long lasting candle burning in each of the skulls half open jaws. These macabre lamps were the source of many legends and were known far beyond the walls of the Olafson Clan. Isegrim standing in his finest Chief regalia looked up to these chandeliers. It was an old Olafson game to know the name of each enemy , whose cranium bone was attached up there. Each time a mistake was made, a tankard of ale had to be emptied. Only massive Hogun was ever able to beat him in that game. No ancient symbol had been overlooked; Odin's spear lay upon the altar, the Elders wore their white robes and the goði, the priests from Hasvik , had added dark red capes to their robes. The first keeper an old man wore a robe adorned with the world tree Yggdrasil embroidered on his chest. Over hundred fifty Clan chiefs in full regalia, swords and shields accompanied by first sons, warriors and wives filled the mighty hall. Even a delegation of Clan Chiefs of the East had been arrived and welcomed. The Eldest, the hermit they called the wizard of Nilfeheim was here as well and that he had left his lonely burg was seen as an omen of great importance. Gretel was standing in the back, next to Brunar Bendixen, disguised with a dark wig and a veil. She had used a generous dose of the Shaill pheromone to attract the man and then spiked his ale with an illegal hypno drug. Despite her sisters complaints, she had not wasted her time spending time in virtual reality. There she talked to others and there she learned about the subtle ways to entice and control others via psycho drugs. After she had heard of it she soaked up every bit of knowledge she could find. Her sister's money purchased a neural upload on Shaill poisons and toxins. She even learned about Connector and one based on Twilight Moon supplied her with a small collection of Shaill hyno drugs, pheromone perfumes and deadly poisons. Of course the possession and use of such drugs was highly illegal. She cared little about that, she was beyond Union law on Nilfeheim. Here, the knowledge she had gained and the content of the little box would make her a queen and give her the tools for revenge. The Shaill, a very disgusting species of huge sentient slugs had based an entire civilization on the mastery of biochemistry and could at will make their glands produce the most complex and potent bio toxins and compounds. While it wasn't Psionics and the potions could only increase and reinforce emotions that were already there, but with the help of inhibition lowering and hypno suggestive psycho drugs the primitive men of this cold world could be molded to her will. How Isegrim freed himself was not entirely clear to her, but seeing him with his son and that blonde bitch, she suspected strong emotions overpowered the effects of her drugs. It took little persuasion to convince Brunar to take her along, introduced as a high lady of his clan. The Bendixen clan was not an ally of the Ragnarssons and an open enemy to the Olafsons, but it was tradition to invite friend and enemy alike on a day like this. That they had to stand in the back was due to the fact that there weren't enough chairs left and it was the allies and friends of the clans that had reserved seats. Next to Brunar stood his father Odvar Bendixen, he too was under the influence of Gretel's hypno drugs, he too needed little convincing to simply ignore her. He was talking to the clan chief of the Elhir. Leif Elhir who like Isegrim had just recently become the leader of his clan snorted. "That whelp they name today, is celebrated like a the coming of the first king of Nilfeheim." Odvar Bendixen kept watching the last guests arrive. "Aye and the first king he just might be. His name is going to be Eric and he is going to inherit not just the riches of the Ragnarssons, this shrewd clan has gathered on this world, but the billions Erik Gustav has. There isn't a week going by one of his freighters lands. Do you know how much a freighter like that costs?" "No and what need would I have for such a thing? We are Norse." "You could by every boat and sub on Nilfeheim and have the spare change to buy a hundred more. Maybe that illustrates it better to you. We are not as isolated from the rest of the Union as you think. Wealth is power and in that regards Erik Gustav is more powerful than all the clans." Gretel could barely keep quiet. She had seen what the money of her sister could buy, and if her plans came to fruition, those billions would be hers. Leif said. "His father had to hire on our boats to keep his clan fed and now Isegrim spends more coin on the naming of his son than his clan has seen in five Long nights. What I like to know is, what they paid the hermit to come down from his rock." "Yes that would be interesting to know. His endorsement would get me a seat in the circle right away. Yet he is known to refuse even the most generous gifts. They say he is a wizard and has the ear of the gods." Gretel could not hold back and whispered ."There is no such thing as gods and there are no wizards." Odvar turned to her and the thin veneer of psycho drugs could not change the fact that he was a Nilfeheim man."Silence woman, don't blaspheme. How are you again?" She lowered her head. "I am the companion of Brunar, thy lordship." He grunted. "Then know your place and be silent. It behooves you not to speak when Chiefs converse. A woman is silent and knows her place. Brunar see that she knows her place and later you will tell me from what clan she hails and why the proper traditions have not be kept." Brunar tried to remember and looked at Gretel. "I don't really remember." Gretel was saved by a blasting of horns and pipes, calling the assembled to attention. She knew how close she came to lose it all. The bio chemicals worked but it seemed the effect was not as strong as she hoped. She also remembered the warning of her Virtu instructor, that strong emotions could break the bio chemical spell. The music played on the old instruments swelled to a rousing tune, every Norse knew. The hymn to the Seven Aseir was a well liked sacred melody. Then the crowd became silent as the Eldest of them all. Egill Skalagrimsson came walking along the red carpet carrying a heavy object. Someone whispered. "It is the Blótbolli." Brunar asked his father. "Is that the cup they made of the Nogoll skull. Do you know the story?" "Indeed son, the Nogoll an alien race and part of the Galactic Council raided many Union Colonies during the big intergalactic war. An advanced scouting party of the Nogoll also landed on Nilfeheim. They picked the wrong planet and none of the Nogoll left. This cup was made of the skull of the Nogoll commander, felled by Siegfried Olafson. It galls me to say but that man was perhaps the wildest and strongest Viking ever to live. They say he was even bigger than that giant Hogun." The eldest with a solemn face carried the heavy skull cup and stepped up to where Isegrim held his first born. There the First Keeper of Hasvik took the spear of Odin from the altar and Isegrim cut his hand on the razor sharp spear and dripped his blood over the forehead of the child. "This is my son! My blood is his blood, his blood is Olafson. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim. I declare thee to be Eric Thor Olafson! Isegrim dropped more blood into the cup the old man held and now Erik Gustav cut himself and dripped blood over the newborn. "This is my grandson and sole heir, My blood is his blood his blood is Ragnarsson. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim I swear that all that is mine shall be his on the day he is declared a man and warrior. Hail thee my grandson Eric Thor Olafson." Then he too dropped blood into the cup. To their all surprise the old hermit they often called the wizard of Nilfeheim cut himself on the spear as well and dropped blood over the infant and said with deep emotion in his voice. "Many Longnights and Shortsummers have past since I was born, but I am thy kin Eric Olafson and my blood is your blood. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim I swear to be thy teacher and protector and no secret I guard shall be secret to you." Huge Hogun Olafson stepped up to the spear and he too sprinkled blood over the infant. "My blood is your blood. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim I swear to be thy godfather and protector." The First Keeper raised the cup. "This cup, filled with the blood of the mighty Tyranno, slain this morning by the Eldest. May the strength and might of this world flow through thy veins. I hereby declare thee to be known as Eric Thor Olafson. Bring though honor to thy name. Hail Odin, Hail Thor." The assembled crowd roared and chanted the name Eric Olafson as the First Keeper doused the newborn with the gory liquid. A chieftain of the Olafson clan raised his sword. "Behold the scion of our Lord is not crying, he is not wailing but he is raising his tiny fist. Oh aye a warrior born!" Not even the Elhir clan chief had a dry eye. "Obnoxious they may be, those who bear the name Olafson, but this my friend of the Bendixen Rock is how a first born is named." Gretel, was born a Low men's daughter and much of the legends and traditions were for the Lords and the clans. The Freemen also observed the traditions, the Low men usually had no time for such things, but she was child of Nilfeheim and the event was not completely lost to her, but she would replace that first born with one of her own. Isegrim was beyond her reach, but just for now. It was not easy to get to a Clan island without being invited. She needed to be alone with Isegrim just for a few moments, reveal herself and douse him with another load of the perfume. That black bearded bastard had the hots for her anyway, so much of the Shaill potion was not needed. She started thinking how she could remain on the rock. Being caught hiding somewhere after the festivities were over was not a good thing. Those burgs were close communities and a stranger had a hard time to blend in. She could always go down into the tanneries. No she never again would set a foot into a tannery. She had to get Isegrim another time. The reason for the festivities had fallen asleep, despite the singing and the drinking. Isegrim still beaming with pride said. "My wife take our son, so he may rest more comfortable." Ilva was taking the blood caked child and was glad this archaic ritual was over, but she was proud as can be. Just then the double doors opened, a cold blast of wind made the torches and chandeliers flicker. Three long shadows cast on the red carpet became shorter as three shrouded beings appeared in the doorway. Their form was clearly female. There was utter silence. One of the mysterious visitor spoke and her voice was not loud yet they all heard it clearly. "The sons of far distant Midgard gathered in celebration, praising the Aseir with much drink and food. Traditions of old mingled with the habits of a new world, have you no room on your tables for three weary travelers?" Isegrim stood and gestured to the tables. "No one is denied food,shelter and warmth on our hearths and our gates are open to friend and enemy alike, should they not bear the sword of battle into our midst. Strangers announce the names you are to known by and declare your intend and then let us close the doors, stoke fires and bring warm ale." The big doors closed all by themselves and the shrouded woman in the middle drew back her hood, revealing long black hair but her face remained obscured by a black veil. "I am Verðandi, a traveler from the stars, these are my sisters Urðr and Skuld . We share much of the same roots, Men of Nilfeheim. We came to witness and bless this child. The Universe awaits his coming for a very long time." Egill stepped forward and actually knelt before the strange woman. "The legends are true then." "All legends are true, friend of the White One. It is the mist of time and the limited mind of man that shrouds distant events with the cobwebs of fantasy and embellishment." Elkhart the first Keeper of Hasvik raised both hands, "The Nornir have not been seen for many ages. They arrive when a person is born in order to determine future." Egill gasped. "You speak of Gods. Are the legends true after all?" The veiled women came closer. "What the true nature is of the legends and Gods you worship, you must answer for yourself and with your heart." One of the other women spoke " But yes my sisters and I have been called Norns by those humans that occupied that beautiful world so far distant from here. Long have our names and our true purpose been forgotten by the children of Midgard ." Now the third woman spoke directly to Elkhart "The men of Midgard have long forgotten us indeed, but the long lived offspring of the giants now disguised as man clearly remembers us." She now turned to Egill. "Of our first visits to Midgard, all what remains are stories and legends carried to the stars and new worlds by you. What is a simple story evolves into tales of gods when told by many voices over many generations. Then they fade away and are remembered by a few." Egill noticed that the men and women around them, had fallen asleep. Even Isegrim had slumped back into his chair with his chin on his chest. Now the other two women lowered their hoods. Egill remained kneeling. "Indeed man has grown up, and what our ancestors called gods, were just visitors with advanced technology. Who are you and what is your purpose. I am the first to welcome you but I also assure you I am not a defenseless simpleton." Elkhart suddenly looked much stronger and more massive than even dozing Hogun. "They are visitors who walk among the Aseir. Who advised Thor and Odin. The messengers of fate itself and you question them?" "I am also a Citizen of the Union and if these are Visitors form a civilization we do not know, we must find out what they want!" To the women he said. "Now declare yourselves." The woman who called herself Verðandi chuckled. "Have no fear Egill Skalagrimsson, we are indeed here for what we said we have come." She lowered her staff and pointed it at the blood caked child lying inside a warriors shield. The infant was not asleep but moved his tiny arms. The shrouded woman said. "This cold and wet world so far away from all that seems important pieces of a cosmic puzzle that will be completed in this time and this Universe." Egill could really tell which of the women spoke next. "Only you will remember our visit, old man. To others we will be nothing but a long distant dream." The three women approached the child. Egill stepped before them. "I repeat, declare your intend. I will not let you get closer. Why have you come and what is it you want of Eric?" "The white giant has gifted you with formidable powers indeed. Your old friend you know as Elkhart is much more than he seems and he too is far from impotent. Yet we are not here to harm the child. We came to be the first to hail his coming and hope he remembers us when he comes into his own. There are forces more formidable than the Aseir you worship, seeking to prevent his arrival. His true nature must be hidden and remain a secret until he united the tokens of power. Once he collects the last piece, no force can harm him." Elkhart said ."Then it is true , the children of Midgard will bring forth the one that rings in the age of Ragnarok." The three women circled around the child. "We bring thee sand from the roots of Yggdrasil and water from the well of wisdom. A mistletoe from the world tree. Hail to thee Dark One!" Egill trembled involuntary. "This can not be. Science has replaced the superstition of old, there is no Thor. Thunder is made by the static discharge of lightning. The sun is not a chariot, but a simple star among many. There is no world tree." "Yet you live on a planet where the men worship the Aseir. You call upon Odin on many times both in oath and curse. The Aseir had many names on your old world and each tribe of man described them differently. Did not the Sarans come to your world many times and were called gods by those humans dwelling in ancient Egypt. Do you think this happened only once and the Sarans were the only ones visiting that blue world of your origin? The ones you know as the Aseir are but an old advanced civilization." Another Norn said. "Your Union is not far from reaching the same level of development and has the potential to far surpass them, especially now that the Narth are members of that Union. We Norns are all that is left of a yet older species from times long past. We became messengers of the Rule and through it we know of the potential this child has. All the conditions for the Dark Ones resurrection have been met, yet despite our reputation not even we can predict the future." Egill looked at the little boy who found his own toes much more interesting than the mysterious women. "Tyr was very cryptic, but he usually is. He wanted me to be here, but I know he has been born of a normal Nilfeheim woman and was sired by a brutish Olafson. You arrival, your words make this child to be some sort of supernatural being." "He might not be the Anti force himself, we can not yet sense its presence, but perhaps that child is yet another link in the chain of events that marks the arrival of the Dark One. Yet the Voice of the Rule was certain he is the one. We came to make sure he will grow undisturbed and unnoticed by the forces that want to prevent the rise of the Dark One." The old Keeper who looked so different from his usual said. "He is a weak human, his body is fragile and death is a close companion. I shall gift him strength." Egill turned to the old keeper. "You are not the Old man you claim to be." "I am an old man, Egill. Just much older than most, but perhaps the term man in relation to Children of Midgard is not entirely correct." -""- Egill found himself waking in one of the big chairs by the banquet table. He remembered having the strangest dream about Norns and Odin himself. It was a dream and details faded fast. The very idea that the shriveled old man with the stringy beard who was just getting up from another chair was all powerful Odin was a particular amusing aspect of that dream. He looked at the empty tankards, the mess and the demolished mountains of food. It was how Nilfeheim events and festivities always ended. Servants were already rushing around cleaning and putting things back in order. The last guests left with their Flyers and with heavy heads and so did the hermit of Nilfeheim. He was looking forward to see Tyr the white Tyranno soon. He was just about to descent to the Sub Den where his Poseidon was tied, when he was intercepted by Ilva. She carried her child and said. "I wanted to thank you for coming and making this a special day." "It was a privilege, my lovely child." "Promise me you shaggy old Wizard to teach him some of the things you know, and let him, when he comes of age, listen to your great wisdom. He is born into this beautiful but harsh world. He is, as you well know son to a very hard father who will demand much of him, but if you teach him like you have taught me, my dear gone brother and my beloved father all the things about the ancient Rite of passage, so he can rightfully choose whatever path he wants to go." "I promise you, I will do that. When he is old enough I will summon him to my Rock and show and teach him as much as he lets me." Ilva looked around to make sure she was not overheard. "Will you also introduce him to Tyr?" "Tyr already looks forward to see your son." "Please tell that big fish how much I miss him." "Short Summer is soon upon us once again and there will be reason for you to travel to the Pillar and you can tell him yourself." Egill kissed the beautiful woman on the cheek and then kissed the infant, then he took his leave. -""- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 10: Year 5005, OTT -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 5004, Year Isegrim stood at the bar in the Xchange cafe, watching through the large windows into the large warehouse, as his men unloaded the last crates of Flicker fish and Fangsnapper meat. The door opened and along with a flurry of snow flakes and a gush of cold wind Leif Elhir stomped in, cleaning his heavy boots over the snow grate. He looked around to see who was there and then he noticed Isegrim. "I see the winds also dragged in the steward of the Ragnarsson riches, running errands for the Old Falcon, as the true lord of these boats and men out there is busy doing obscure things far away from Nilfeheim shores." Isegrim turned, this hand dropping on his whip. "It appears the Elhir star is falling further every season. Not able to defend his meager catch against the Black Clan, now crawling and barking like a Nubhir pup, hoping to get attention of real men. I think this pup needs a lashing." Vémundr, the manager of the Xchange cafe came from behind the bar, holding a massive club. "You all know the rules, no fighting on Xchange property, this is Union territory. Unless you want to find yourselves before a Union Judge, you behave." Elhir snorted. "You are a viking, you should not hide behind Union laws and Off world judges." Vémundr who was clean shaven grinned cold. "I am also the second son of a Freeman and not associated to a clan. You are welcome to take your business elsewhere, Mister Elhir. To me you are just a customer and nothing else. Customer rights can be revoked." Isegrim turned back to look outside. "He is Elhir, they only risk insults when they know they can hide but come Elhir speak thy challenge if you dare and we will go where no Off world laws interfere." "What good would a challenge be against a steward. I deal with Chiefs alone." Gunnar Peerson another clan chief sitting at a table with two of his men said. "Perhaps envy speaks, as Leif misses the strong arms of Olafson fishers aboard his boats, casting nets and harpoons is one thing. Casting axes and swing the sword against the boarders of a black clan boat is quite a different thing. I don't recall an Elhir boat returning raided while mighty Volund had to hire on thy boats." Isegrim laughed. "Indeed, the masked devils of the Black Clan fear the red banner and do not come near a boat sailing under the wolf heads." Elhir clenched his fists. "Instead of squabbling, all Clans of the West should put every able man aboard a vessel and find the lair of the Black Clan. We all know under their black guise are banners of the Eastern Clans." A Clan chief known as Sørensen the Silent and lord of the Holmquist clan, grunted. "The Black Clan sails against the boats of the Eastern Clans as well. It is the old feuds between the clans of West and East, that keeps the Black Clan safe and active." Everyone turned to Sørensen, as this was more than he had ever said, as far as anyone present knew. Isegrim quaffed the last swallow, swiped his Credit Strip across the bar, then went to the door and took his Fangsnapper coat from a hook at the wall. "Real Vikings would not come to a tavern to lament their losses, but sail to find revenge!" With these words and an evil grin he stomped out and crossed the Duro-crete floor that stretched from one end to the other of this roofed area. The Xchange was the largest building outside the space port. It was 600 meters long and 200 meters wide. It was completely open to the west side where it faced the wharf. A wide ramp led to the water, or right now to the ocean ice. A conveyor system in the ramp could pull entire Tyranno's onto the trade floor and another one was designed to carry the boxes of fish and what other trade items were delivered. The building being open to one side was as cold as the rest of Nilfeheim and he cursed as he fumbled with his wolf shaped cold mask and it did not snap into place right away. Finally he managed and reached the trading floor. Yellow squares were painted on the Duro-Crete floor and whatever was to be sold stacked inside one such square area. Mr. Amundsen, the Xchange business manager stood next to two work robots. Greifen, Reinhold and three more of Isegrim's men laughed heartily as a little figure thickly wrapped in a Nubhir fur anorak struggled with a Blue Finner, almost as big as the toddler. Isegrim had taken his son for his first ice fishing trip and Reinhold, usually brooding and cold looked loving and proud at little Eric and said. "Lord Isegrim, your son decided to bring his own catch. He is strong already." Greifen agreed. "It won't be long and little Eric will throw the harpoon." Isegrim felt fatherly pride and said. "Then Mr. Amundsen, go tally my sons catch first." The Xchange manager knelt before the toddler and said. "This is a mighty fine fish you got there. I think it will serve me as dinner. Will you accept two Nilfeheim Silvers?" Two full Iridium coins for a fish like that was a steep offer and the little boy took the coins in exchange for the fish and then held out the silvery coins to Isegrim. "For father." Isegrim took the coins and swallowed. "You my son are the pride of my life." The rest of the business was conducted. The offered wares were presented via GalNet on the Xchange net and seafood buyers all across the Union could make offers for the catch after they had inspected the wares via sensors and scanners built in the robots. One of the robot snarled. " Tyson Seafood has offered 12,500 credits for the wares offered, do you accept?" Isegrim did and he watched as the robots stacked the crates on a conveyor that took them to a stasis freezer. The monthly freighter would then take it and the rest of the local product to where ever the buyer was. While his men received a load of empty crates and took them to the boat, the Xchange manager went to his office to get the print out and the money. While almost every business on Nilfeheim took Union Credits, it was tradition to pay Freemen and Low men with physical money. For this the Xchange always paid a part in Iridium coins. Little Eric stood there and watched with awe the working robots and the conveyors. Isegrim was startled as a female voice said. "So this is the little bastard? It seems you have completely forgotten about me." He turned to a woman wearing a red hooded anorak and a white fur face mask. It could have been anyone, but the almost sickening sweet perfume and the voice could only belong to Gretel. The cold air seemed to intensify the scent and only for a brief moment he wondered why he was so attracted to her, even now as anyone, even ugly Harkun could have been behind that mask. "Yes this is my son. Watch your mouth, he is no bastard but my first born." She came closer and touched his arm. "I am your first love and I am your only love. I carry you a son. Now get rid of that child. A simple push and he falls into the shock freezers." "And loose all? If he dies before Erik Gustav, I am back casting nets from the decks of Elhir boats." While a voice in him still asked questions and why he was taking to this woman, his resistance melted away and the old love and lust he had always felt for that wench was back and became stronger by the minute. He barely registered the needle prick sensation under all the fur and leather padding of his arm, just where Gretel's hand was. "Then let us make sure he lives, I intend to live in luxury. Now what about his mother?" 5,005 OTT Outside the bitter cold winds of Longnight howled around the thick Duro-crete walls of the Burg, but here in my mother's drawing room it was warm and cozy. The soak-stones glowed warm with Tyranno Oil fire in the oven. I always thought her room was just a bit warmer than all the other rooms and halls. Here in her chambers the gray and drab Duro-Crete walls were mostly covered with Velvet curtains and antique tapestries depicting the first settlers, the gods, scenes of great Clan wars and legendary hunts. I was lying on my favorite spot, nestled among the incredible soft copper colored Nubhir furs spread out on mother's divan. Her fur blankets were lined with smooth, luxurious shimmering ivory satin, ever since I could remember I loved the feel them. My fur blankets were made of the coarse back pelt of Fangsnappers, were not lined at all and always had a strong musky odor. Here everything smelled wonderful. She was sitting across from me in her favorite chair, with the thick Book of Legends on her lap and reading me another fantastic adventure of Thor the thunder god. Her long blonde hair glistened like spun gold in the warm yellow light of the brass reading lamp beside her. The old book resting on the maroon colored skirt of her velvet dress, the one with the golden seams I liked so much. She was a great reader and could bring the characters of the story come alive, just like now she gestured with her slender hand and began to read: "One morning Thor, the mighty God of Thunder, awoke from a deep slumber; he reached for his hammer as he was wont to do first thing every morning. Alas, on this day, his fist formed around thin air - the hammer had disappeared." Her hand was searching the thin air next to her chair and I was no longer lying down. I hadn't heard this story before and had to sit up straight. Thor's hammer was gone! How could he defend Asgard and make thunder without it? She glanced at me, gave me a deep smile and continued on reading. Her voice increased in intensity and she managed to speak with a deeper voice." Thor was beside himself. His rage was immense and would probably have been quite destructive, but without his hammer, all he could do was rant and rave. What good was the God of Thunder without his mighty weapon?" I could only imagine, Thor without his hammer, unthinkable! Mother's voice became quieter and her face had a quizzical look "Of course he had his suspicion as to the identity of the thief ... it could only have been those pesky Giants! But no matter, he needed his hammer back, and quickly! First thing though, he had to find out where the Giants might have hidden it. Who better than Loki, the shrewd one to make inquiries? Not to lose any time, Loki went to Freya and asked her for the loan of her feather-dress, the famed falcon-cloak, so he might quickly fly to the land where the Giants dwell. When Freya heard what the cloak was needed for, she was more than willing to help. So Loki went on his way and it wasn't long before he happened upon Thrym, one of the princes of the Giant clan. Thrym feigned surprise and inquired what could possibly be so wrong in Asgard, or perhaps Elfland, that Loki dared enter the realm of the Giants on his own. Loki told him of his mission, to find the hammer of Thor. Whereupon the Giant threw back his huge, ugly head, shook with thunderous laughter, and then told Loki that the hammer was well out of the reach of the Aseir, safely buried, some eight fathoms beneath the Earth's surface. And it would never again be swung by Thor ... lest Freya herself be brought to him as his bride. Freya, of course, was Odin's bride and the most beautiful of the Aseir" I knew Freya would have looked exactly like my mother, for who could be more beautiful than her? "You should have a cloak of feathers too!" I said. So you could look lovely and I could borrow it to fly around!" She laughed." Oh that would be grand indeed. However I doubt Freya would want to share her cloak with mere mortals, but I too wondered what that cloak would look like, especially when my father told me this story when I was a little girl." "What did Freya say when she heard about that?" "Let me read you more of the story and let us find out." She turned the page. "Loki hurried back to Asgard, to inform Freya that she needed to ready herself to become the bride of the Giant Thrym, a terrible fate but for the good of Asgard, of course! Freya's outrage became the stuff of legend in the halls of Asgard - the idea, she, the beautiful, wild, free-spirited Freya, the bride of that mangy dog! Something had to be done and finally, Heimdahl, the wise one, advised Thor that there was no other solution than that he, Thor, dress up in women's bridal frocks and pretend to be Freya. To say that Thor was less than taken with this idea would be an understatement. No way was he going to risk the ridicule of all Asgard. There had to be a better way! However nobody could come up with a better plan. Everyone knew that the Giants had had their eyes on Asgard for a long time, and with the help of the hammer, they might even accomplish this goal. And that would simply not do! Especially since Odin was asleep and could not be woken for 100 years. Loki even offered to accompany Thor, decked out as his handmaiden and soon, the great rams were ready to draw Thor's wagon across the heavens. Mountains split open, forests burst into flames, and the rumble from the mighty wagon could be heard from a long way off. Thrym believed it to herald the arrival of his bride. He bade his hall to be decked and the tables readied for a great feast. "As night fell, the great meal had begun. Thor alone ate a whole roasted Ochsen, eight salmons, and every bit of the sweetmeats that had been served for the women; this meal he washed down with three barrels of mead. Thrym thought this just a bit odd, but Loki whispered to him that Freya had not eaten for eight days, as he was too overcome with longing for the Giant Prince. Now that was more to the brute's liking, and he felt a desire to kiss his betrothed. But as he lifted "her" veil, he pulled back in shock ... the eyes he encountered glittered as with madness. Again, Loki explained that Freya had not slept for many nights, from longing for her groom. Then the giant's oldest sister came forth and bade "Freya" to take her golden bracelets from her arms and give it to her; with these she would insure the old giantess' favor and good will. Meanwhile Thrym, impatient with the ways of women, called for the hammer to be brought and laid in his bride's lap. Thus would their union be sealed before the Gods. Those words were music to Thor's ears. No sooner did he hold his hammer in his hand than that he sprang from his chair and his the first blow killed Thrym outright. None of the clan of the giants survived that night, not even the old woman who had asked for his bracelets in return for her favor. He paid her in blood instead of trinkets." She closed the book with a loud thud that brought me back to reality. "And it was thus that the God of Thunder reclaimed his hammer." "What is an Ochsen?" I asked. "It is a huge animal with horns, twice the size of the biggest Fangsnapper you ever going to see. It is an animal that lives on Earth, I never seen of course" "Not even Uncle Hogun could eat an entire Fangsnapper!" She laughed. "No, I am sure not even your huge Uncle Hogun could do that." She put the book aside, got up and brushed over her skirt." And now it is time for my little warrior to go to sleep." "He could not have done it without the help of Loki and the wise Heimdahl." I concluded. She nodded." This is very true, Eric and that is the message in this story. It means not all problems can be solved with raw strength and weapons but sometimes other methods are more effective. Of course, Thor being Thor ended the story his way and made sure no one would ever again get the idea and steal his hammer." My Father had entered the room, his eyes glassy and his nose red from too much ale and mead, made a growling sound that rolled from the bottom of his massive chest and then said." Loki is a trickster and he deceived Thor many times after. No Neo Viking should ever listen to this particular story. " Mother pursed her lips and said." But he is one of the gods and half-brother to Thor and he did help the Thunderer to get his hammer back!" Father tried to think of a reply but could not really argue with that so he glared at me." This is no place for a warrior born. Look at you, lying on furs in the boudoir of a woman. You are too old now to be in your mother's dressing room. All this warmth will make you soft like a woman. You are to go outside right now and keep watch on the tower. The cold wind will clear your mind of all that soft rubbish and steel you to be a man!" Mother protested." Isegrim he is five years old! What is wrong with me reading him the legends of the Gods? He is not going out on that freezing tower in the middle of Longnight. There hasn't been a guard up there for 500 years! He is no warrior yet, he is a little boy!" Father uncoiled his ever-present whip; that he carried on a sling attached to his wrist. The whip was made of a length of steel cable. He bellowed loudly and angrily:" Know thy place woman! It is not proper for a wench or anyone to question my decisions!" I could smell the mead on him as he rushed by me towards mother. She stood there not moving an inch and held her chin high. "You do not scare me with your whip! You are drunk. Now leave my chamber! My Father will hear of this if you do not leave now!" Father screamed: "No one gives me commands in my Burg, you are but a woman and your only duty is to please me! He slashed the cable across my mother's face. I heard the crack of the steel cable , my mother's cry of agony and there was blood everywhere. Category:File Depository Category:Fragments